"Xiaobai, Xiaohuang, stay alert, and Jiji, keep watch in the sky!" Jiang Hai tightened his grip on his gun and whispered to the hawks and dogs beside him. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the forest ahead.
Today was October 29th, and the end of the month was drawing near. Jiang Hai's manor remained as bustling as ever.
The cowboys were tending the cattle, while the fishermen monitored the movements of fish underwater. Though the wine had already been barreled and stored, Aphra and the others were far from idle—late autumn meant it was time to harvest the vegetables in the garden.
Winthrop wasn't like some southern cities where vegetables could be grown year-round. Here, there was only one growing season. After harvesting, the vegetables were sent to the warehouse for storage—mostly hardy kinds that could keep well.
Radishes, pumpkins, Chinese cabbage, kale, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cabbages, winter melons—all were Jiang Hai's winter provisions. They were stored in a special warehouse where the temperature was kept low, much like the vegetable cellar dug when Jiang Hai's family still lived in their bungalow. These measures ensured the vegetables would last through the winter.
Still, Jiang Hai felt a bit uncomfortable without fresh vegetables and was already considering building a greenhouse next spring to have fresh produce year-round.
Since Jiang Hai didn't plant much and never sold the vegetables, the soil's fertility remained robust.
Because Aphra and the others were busy with the harvest, Xiaoya, Bernice, Darlene, and Marianne also pitched in to help.
The only truly idle people in the manor were Jiang Hai himself—and two others, Dulles Gerard and O'Connor Murphy, who spent their days drinking red wine in the cellar. According to them, it was crucial to understand this batch of wine, how to classify it, and what standards to apply—details Jiang Hai found perplexing. These matters were far beyond his expertise.
Preparing for Halloween a few days ago had been just a small distraction. Recently, Jiang Hai had been tying bundles of grass each morning after waking up. Winter was coming, and there were still many tasks to prepare around the manor.
But by about nine in the morning, the cowboys had all gone out to herd cattle, and Jiang Hai couldn't tie grass on his own, leaving him with little to do. After several days of boredom at home, he suddenly remembered that a few months ago he had said he wanted to visit his own forest. It had been a long time, so maybe today was the day.
The first time Jiang Hai entered the forest, he was still accompanied by Robbins Garcia and Edward Anderson.
Now, Jiang Hai was much stronger than a year ago. Not only had his physical fitness reached four times the human limit, but his experience and skills had also improved greatly. This gave him the courage to venture into the forest alone.
With this in mind, Jiang Hai grabbed his gun, put on his outdoor gear, and set off with Xiao Huang, Xiao Bai, and Jiujiu. Ban Ya had recently been transferred by Azarina and was busy with something mysterious.
Passing by the swimming pool, Jiang Hai saw the Greenland seal he had bought playing happily with two capybaras.
Since arriving at Jiang Hai's manor, these three little creatures had been living the good life—eating, playing, and sleeping every day.
Fortunately, they still recognized Jiang Hai as their master. Upon seeing him, they all looked up in greeting.
After a brief hello, Jiang Hai took the two dogs and the eagle and entered the forest.
The bright sky outside quickly darkened under the forest canopy, a consequence of Jiang Hai's own efforts.
When he had been nurturing the pasture, this forest had also absorbed spiritual energy.
Spiritual energy could enhance grass, cattle, and fish—and naturally, it affected trees as well. Over the past year, the trees had grown rapidly. Fortunately, those living in Jiang Hai's manor saw the growth daily and didn't think much of it. Outsiders, however, wouldn't believe that these trees had grown in one year better than trees elsewhere did in three. It was no exaggeration to call Jiang Hai's forest lush and dense.
The thick leaves completely blocked the sunlight, with only scattered rays filtering through gaps in the canopy. Even so, the grass inside, nearly waist-high, obstructed Jiang Hai's view. He slung his gun on his back, drew the cold-forged knife he had specially purchased, and began cutting a path through the undergrowth.
There was actually a big difference between modern knives and ancient cold weapons. A knife's hardness depended mainly on its material and forging method.
This hardness, measured in HRC, didn't necessarily mean the higher the better.
The harder the knife, the more brittle it became, while more flexible knives had lower hardness—an unavoidable trade-off.
Chinese cold weapons reached their peak during the Tang and Song dynasties. After that came chaotic times—the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, followed by the Yuan dynasty—and many forging methods were lost.
Reluctantly, Jiang Hai admitted that the best modern knives were made by island countries following the Tang dynasty's forging techniques.
During the Anti-Japanese War, the quality of samurai swords was far superior to swords used in China.
Of course, now most knives were machine-made, allowing any desired hardness.
A common knife's best hardness ranged from 50 to 60 HRC—the best you could buy.
But Jiang Hai's knife was different. His Nepali knife, also called ******, was specially ordered from an outdoor goods store in town. Its hardness was 65 HRC—cutting iron nails was almost as easy as slicing wood. Despite the hardness, it remained flexible and non-reflective, due to a metal alloy that ensured toughness. It wasn't an exaggeration to say it could cut hair.
As Jiang Hai swung his knife, the grass in front of him fell away, clearing a path.
But just as he was chopping happily, a sudden shriek pierced the air—the chirping bird flew by in a panic.
Hearing its alarmed cry, Jiang Hai frowned and instantly raised his gun.
Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai, following him, dropped to the ground, sniffing around, trying to detect any unusual scent. After some time, they raised their heads in confusion.
Suddenly, Xiao Huang lunged at Jiang Hai. Distracted, Jiang Hai didn't notice until he was knocked down.
For a moment, he panicked, but soon relaxed—he knew Xiao Huang wouldn't hurt him.
Looking up, Jiang Hai gasped.
Though he hadn't found any clues himself, and neither had Xiao Huang or Xiao Bai, Jiujiu had.
His enemy was coiled on a tree.
A snake—a huge snake!
"Damn, an anaconda? How could it be here?" Jiang Hai shuddered as he stared at the enormous serpent coiled around the branch, nearly five meters long, looking down at him.
He had only come hoping to see the mountain lion and her cubs. How did such a monster end up in this forest?
Wasn't this snake native to South America? What on earth was it doing here?
Before he could think further, the snake flicked its tongue excitedly and wrapped its lower body tighter around the tree. Then it slowly slithered toward Jiang Hai.
Seeing the movement, Jiang Hai immediately raised his gun.
The snake stopped, but didn't retreat. It simply stared at Jiang Hai, circling slowly.
Jiang Hai couldn't help but wonder: What was this creature's purpose?
Why was it here? This snake obviously belonged to South America—how had it appeared in his manor?
Most puzzlingly, shouldn't it be hibernating now? How was it still so active?
He glanced at Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai. The two dogs, who had been nervous moments ago, now calmly squatted by his side, as if they didn't see the massive snake in front of them.
"Seriously? Are you guys betraying me?" Jiang Hai said bitterly. His luck was terrible—why would he run into this?
"Hiss, hiss."
The giant anaconda slowly slithered down from the tree, its eyes seemingly devoid of emotion. Yet Jiang Hai sensed a flicker of feeling within them.
It was as if the snake was telling him it meant no harm.
Confused, Jiang Hai watched as the anaconda pressed its body against the grass, deliberately clearing a path ahead of him.
After moving a short distance, it glanced back, as if waiting for him to follow.
"Didn't they say that after the new court was established, animals can't become spirits? Maybe this is the United States, and not under the court's jurisdiction," Jiang Hai murmured, frowning.
The anaconda clearly showed some unusual intelligence—it wanted him to follow.
Though nervous, Jiang Hai tightened his grip on his gun, scanned the surroundings cautiously, and followed the snake deeper into the forest.
(To be continued.)